


The Mischievous Minion

by Lisie



Series: The Lord Commander [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisie/pseuds/Lisie
Summary: Another prompt from the WT event." Pets/Minions."I found this prompt quite tough so I don't know how it came out, but I hope you all like it.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Series: The Lord Commander [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714444
Kudos: 26





	The Mischievous Minion

Aymeric had been absorbed in his work, when suddenly, a furry, grey-white creature bounded onto his desk. It stopped for a moment, it's dusty paws settling on the document he had been drafting not moments before. His eyebrows arched in surprise - a nutkin, here in Ishgard? While you could certainly find them in outlying regions, they didn't often wander into the city. Aymeric studied the creature; it didn't seem at all afraid, while it munched nonchalantly on the acorn held between its tiny paws. Aymeric reached slowly for the creature, his palm faced upwards, as he had read once that this was a sign of friendship for the intelligent, but temperamental little creatures. It shifted it's button like eyes from his face, to his palm, to his face again, before placing the acorn it had been nibbling on, straight into Aymeric's open hand. It lifted itself onto its hindquarters, and puffed its chest out with pride, the tip of its bushy tail flicking to and fro. Aymeric couldn't help himself - it was too cute - he broke into a poorly stifled chuckle. The fuzzy creature on his desk, did not seem to like that at all. It dropped down onto all fours, squinted its eyes at the man, and bolted to the edge of the desk. Aymeric felt disappointed that it was leaving; but he had, after all, been very discourteous to his guest. Or at least Aymeric thought it was leaving. Our little nutkin had other plans. It rushed back towards Aymeric, grabbed its prize, and only then jumped deftly from the top of the desk, to a nearby chair, to the floor, then out the door. Aymeric, still holding the half-chewed acorn, suddenly found his other hand quite bereft of his quill. He closed his eyes, pursed his lips and let a long sigh escape from his nose. They forgot to add vengeful to the description in the book. 

Aymeric stood up from his desk. He had no intention of following the naughty little creature; he could only imagine the reaction if anyone saw him scurrying around the city chasing down a nutkin with a quill between its teeth. The Lord Commander, brought low by a creature the size of his palm. But he did need to get something else to write with. He had become fussy about his choice of quills - after all, as he had grown older and risen through the ranks to his position, he was more oft to find himself with a quill in his hand than a sword. He made his way to the one place he knew stocked the very best in the whole city; it was actually a bookstore, but it had a small collection of the best quills and ink gil could buy. As he walked through the door, a bell tinkled overhead. The shopkeeper was seated in her usual spot - a large leather armchair more suited as a reading chair than for receiving customers. Her face rose from her book as Aymeric made his way over.

"Ah, Lord Commander." She stood up, bowing politely, placing the book in her hands onto a nearby side table. "How can I help you today?"  
"Could you show me your collection of quills? I seem to have misplaced mine." Her eyes wandered between two sets of shelves, before she answered carefully. "I certainly can, Lord Commander. However, if you would like your original quill back, I know where you might be able to find it." Aymeric tilted his head in the direction the librarian had looked, intrigued. Did that little nutkin somehow make its way here of all places. This truly was an odd place, he thought as he looked around - he liked it though. There was a gentle fire burning in the small stone fireplace and the carpets were thick, dulling the sound in the room, making it feel tranquil and cozy. Many similar armchairs to the storekeepers were dotted around, all placed in corners and nooks, forming little private booths. This place really seemed more of a reading room than a store.  
Aymeric broke away from the thought, and looked back to the storekeeper inquiringly. She obliged, "If you follow the shelves all the way to the end there, turn right, then left again - a lovely lady that has been frequenting my store lately may be able to help you. She came in not long ago, asking about a quill she had come across. I was absolutely sure it was the same I sold to you. After all, the quills we sell here are only the best." She sounded a touch smug as she made her closing statement. Aymeric thanked her, and curiously made his way through the labyrinthine store, following the directions he'd been given. As he turned the final corner, his steps faltered ever so slightly at what he found on the other side.

It isn't the sight most would expect from the one they call the Warrior of Light. Many people had seen her formidable stance on the battlefield, her golden Codex raised high in her right hand, standing calm and collected against enemies ten times or more her size.  
But right at this point in time, she had her feet curled up on an armchair, a pot of hot tea to her side, and her face buried in a large, old, and dusty book. Now that he'd seen it, Aymeric admitted to himself that it should be obvious. While Scholars could more than hold their own in battle, they were academics at heart. Aymeric suddenly noticed an additional detail to the scene. His little friend from earlier was curled up, nary a care in the world, perched artfully on her legs. It seemed she was also quite capable of taming devils. 

Aymeric opened his mouth to greet her, but immediately closed it again. He felt a little nervous - this would be the first time he would speak to her alone. He wasn't quite sure whether to call her by her title (which seemed too formal), or her name (which seemed too intimate). He shook his head inwardly; I seem to have regressed back into a teenage boy. He had admitted he certainly had a crush on the fair Warrior of Light - but their relationship had never progressed past official discourse - and probably would never go beyond that point. Besides which, he was still in awe of her role in the battle against Vishap on the Steps of Faith; he wasn't even sure if he was qualified to have a romantic interest in the phenomenal woman sitting before him.  
He cleared his throat and decided on her title - he was more than likely going to see her around the city; now that she had been accepted as a Ward of House Fortemps, he was sure over time he could come to call her more informally. As his voice rang out, deep, delicate, and smooth, the young lady lifted her eyes from the pages in front of her. She looked dumbstruck for an instant, before shuffling to her feet, the little nutkin reacting admirably quickly, moving to settle itself on her shoulder. She placed the book on her chair, and, putting her hands together behind her back, her knees slightly bent inwards, she bowed politely to him. Aymeric felt a warm throb coming from his chest. That was unbearably adorable. She straightened herself up, cocked her head to one side, and began nervously chewing on her lower lip. 

Aymeric, the gentleman that he was (although the eyes currently lingering on her lips might suggest otherwise), smiled briefly before continuing, "The shopkeeper told me of a lovely young lady that might know where I could find my quill. The friend on your shoulder and I are quite well acquainted."  
The woman in front of him paused for a second as she took in his words, then dipped her face towards the little nutkin, her lips upturned at the edges, the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Sorry. He isn't usually like this. I'll get it for you right away." She turned around, bending over to rifle through the book she had been reading. The path of Aymeric's eyes were now anything but gentlemanly. The little nutkin, obviously very defensive of its owner, ran along her back, stopping to glare accusingly at the tall Elezen. Alright, I deserved that, he thought. She returned to face him, his quill in her hands - but before she passed it to him, she brought the feather part of the quill to her lips, asking gently, "What did you do to him. He really doesn't seem to like you very much?" The little nutkin, who had somehow returned to her shoulder, seemed to puff up indignantly at her words. "I think I offended him. It seems he doesn't like being called cute." She smiled, bringing her free hand towards the little nutkin, and said, "Well of course not. He's fiercely loyal, and would go to the ends of the Earth for his friends. That makes him handsome, not cute." The little nutkin openly reveled in her words, rubbing his cheek affectionately against her fingers. She looked at Aymeric again, passing over the quill.

They said their goodbyes before Aymeric left the store, feeling significantly more energized than when he had first entered. When he settled back down at his desk, he paused for a moment, bringing the feathers of the quill to his lips. I suppose that little nutkin isn't such a devil. And he did leave me with his precious acorn, so maybe he didn't dislike me as much as it seemed...


End file.
